Kingdom under Fire: In Rain, Under Moonlight
by arrasailsup
Summary: Dark. Angsty. ONESHOT. Kingdom under Fire.


**Author's Note: My second KuF oneshot. I'm so happy. Whee.**

Disclaimer: Don't own anything. Why must continuously torture us by making us write disclaimers?!

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**Kingdom under Fire: In Rain, Under Moonlight**

The rain matched her emotions perfectly.

It had been some time since it happened, but it felt as though it was yesterday. It felt as though it was just yesterday when he died.

No, not died. _Murdered. _Murdered by the Patriarchal guards.

She had seen it happen before her very eyes. She still hadn't forgotten the look of shock on his face when they betrayed him, when they murdered him. Him and his troops. All of them. The Patriarchal guards had turned on him, even after he had fulfilled his end of the bargain. Just because he was a Dark Elf. Unconvertible barbarians that required extermination, according to the Ecclesian church.

Oh, she knew all about it. Morene had taken sadistic pleasure in telling her all about his allegiance to the Kaedes, and Cirith's role as a spy.

How she hated that half-leech bitch. She still remembered Morene's words: "Leave her to die with her ex-lover." Would she be proving her right by doing what she planned to do?

Her long white hair, once so clean and well-groomed, now hung in lanky, dirty strands. But she didn't care. She hadn't cared about anything since his death. What was there to care about? She had not told him her true feelings, and now, he was gone forever.

Unless...

Yes, that was what she had planned to do by herself, on this night, alone in the barren wilderness, with just the rain and moon for company, as witnesses. Morene might have said that she was a coward, but she didn't care. The half-leech and her cruel words will have no effect on her, ever again.

Cirith had proven her loyalty to the Bloodsuckers, by spying on him, and abandoning him. She would never forgive her. Cirith can rot with Morene and the rest, the filthy traitor. The High Elves would take back their freedom, and overthrow the Bloodsuckers! And all those heretics that aided them willingly would be punished!

She almost wished she would live to see that day, that glorious day. But if all went as planned, she would never see the dawn of tomorrow. If all went well, and she didn't prove herself to be the coward Morene had said she was by chickening out at the last moment...

But she wouldn't. She was not a coward. Strident was wrong, and she would prove it, by doing what she had set out to do, regardless of the consequences. What had she left to lose? The Vellond Army would never accept her again, not after what had happened. And as if she had any wish to serve those Bloodsuckers and their filthy ruler! Pah! The thought itself was ridiculous.

No, she would never go back to that life again.

As for joining the Kaedes? Maybe he would have approved, but she didn't want to do it. No, she had enough of servitude, of answering to a superior that was too air-headed to see what was best for them, even if the answer was right in front of their eyes. And she was sure he agreed. And if he didn't, too bad. She may love him, but that did not mean she will bow to his every wish and desire.

Morene had said he had used her, and that she was a fool for trusting him, but she didn't believe the half-Vampire. Morene was capable of anything. That much she had learnt, while having the vampiress as an officer.

But she was stalling. Her hands came to rest on the hilts of her twin rapiers, both hanging by her side, as usual. The one on her right hand side was the normal ones used by the Dark Elf captains: black hilt with intricate patterns carved in gold on the scabbard and hilt, and a long, slightly curved blade. But the other...

It was given to her by _him_. As a gift, when they parted before she joined Rumen's troops. She had cherished it, and kept it close to her, even if she had made excuses for the reason she was still using it. She knew Morene had scorned her for it, behind her back, but she hadn't cared. And neither would she ever now.

Slowly, she drew the rapier. How oddly fitting she would die for him, by the blade of a gift from him. The weapon slid smoothly out of its sheath, as it had done so many times before, when she went into battle. For the first time in so many weeks, a small smile graced her face.

Raising the rapier until it reflected the silvery radiance of the moon, she sighed, and slowly lowered it until the cool blade touched her wrist. She pressed it down, gently at first, but then harder. Dark crimson blood flowed out. She felt a sense of release, of peace.

_Rithrin, I'm coming._


End file.
